


Blindsided

by CatS81



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Sex, Sexual Fantasy, female orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 16:41:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7180781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CatS81/pseuds/CatS81
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Against her will, Carolyn finds herself thinking of someone else whilst in bed with Herc....</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blindsided

**Author's Note:**

> I've got no idea where this came from but it definitely wanted to be written! I know it may not seem like it but I do love Carolyn with Herc, and there's no actual cheating going on here - what's happening is all in Carolyn's head and her own battle with it. I hope it's okay - thank you for reading :)
> 
> Grateful thanks to Linguini for the beta and the encouragement!

The first time it happened she dismissed it as an accident. Something incidental that she’s quick to put down to distraction at the end of a long, stressful day. Her mind had begun to wander even from the start, and by the time Herc was on the brink she was silently pondering the next day’s schedule, wondering at the paperwork she still needed to complete. He had been profusely apologetic and she had blinked back to herself, startled that she had been almost unaware of him despite the intimate connection of their bodies. She had tried to dissuade him but he had insisted, easing her back against the pillows and kissing a gentle yet firm path down her body. She could remember her resultant thought processes with brutal clarity….

_Oh, for goodness sake, Herc – this really is unnecessary. Indulging you is all very well and good but the alarm’s set for four o’clock and all I want to do is sleep…._

She had sighed, allowing her eyes to close, to give herself over to the languid strokes of his tongue, the murmurs of encouragement from his lips. She had wanted to let go, to allow herself to enjoy it but her mind had been set on sabotage, unwelcome thoughts creeping beneath her defences.

_Four o’ bloody clock – does that even give me enough time to look at the stuff for the accountant? I need to get there early enough to at least **start** looking at the tax return.…Damn, and I promised I’d pick those idiots up as well on my way. Though that might be a good thing since Martin will no doubt want to double-check the cargo manifest a dozen times, and Douglas…_

She had inhaled in a shudder, trying to focus on Herc’s warm breath against her thigh, the pulsing ache low in her abdomen, but the thoughts were relentless.

_….Well, let’s face it, Douglas will be no help at all. Bloody twerp. He’s been nothing but a complete pain in the neck for weeks so expecting him to muck in and get us off the airfield on time will be asking the impossible. Do I actually care what his problem is? I most certainly do not. Trying to hold any sort of conversation with him at the moment is more trouble than it’s worth, and I swear if he doesn’t pull himself together soon I’ll….I’ll…._

She had jerked at the thought of her miscreant First Officer, the sudden image of his despondent dark eyes coinciding with a deep throbbing between her legs, shards of heat exploding from her centre. She had gasped, eyes flying open as she realised what was happening, unable to shake him as her body splintered with unexpected speed and ferocity - the desire to groan his name had been almost overwhelming and she tasted blood as she bit her lip. 

_Oh God, oh Christ, Douglas. **Douglas** …._

The guilt had been instantaneous as she trembled in the aftermath, clawing at her heart as Herc had pulled her into his arms, haunting her as she tried to sleep.

The next day she had begun desperately to rationalise - her thoughts had been on work, focussed on the upcoming job, and thinking of her colleague was nothing more than an unfortunate coincidence. She had been under considerable pressure of late, financial worries getting on top of her, and the stress was more than enough to explain the cross-wiring. She set her jaw in determination and stepped into the day, confident in her assessment and schooling herself not to over-analyse.

But then it had happened again - Herc’s body, his scent, but Douglas behind her eyes, Douglas in the depth of her desire. She had excused herself to the bathroom and stared at her reflection, worried she was losing her mind. When she permitted introspection, she could admit she’d always found him attractive - but a mild appreciation did nothing to explain the elemental need, the want that was base and raw and desperate. Herc had called softly through the door, and she was gripped anew by regret, forcing away the confusion and anxiety, and returning to their bed with barely a word.

After the third time, she had begun to approach the problem scientifically. Varying the factors with as much detachment as she could muster – drunk, sober, exhausted, alert, with Herc, alone. Every time the same result: an explosive orgasm that stole her breath and left her awash with self-loathing and reproach, Douglas’ name spilling from her lips.

It was odd, she had mused on one occasion, that spending time in his company seemed to cause no conflict – in the light of day the feelings appeared to dissipate, and she could behave towards him as she always had. Her ability to compartmentalise was one of her strengths but this felt different, almost a schism between her real and fantasy worlds. The fact she was even _having_ fantasies was also troubling. Even at the end with Gordon, though she was certainly dissociated and distant, she never imagined he was someone else.

For a brief moment she wonders if it’s a reflection on her relationship with Herc but viciously dismisses that thought. She’d never tell him, naturally, but she loves the irritating man in every respect - which makes this most recent blindsiding development distressing in the extreme. She has no interest in Douglas, she knows she doesn’t in reality, but her body is contradicting her at every turn and she’s becoming tired of it.

She’s tried not thinking of him, of course she has. She’s made herself concentrate on how Herc is when they’re together, on how much he gives with an open heart, but it’s never enough and she despises herself. She ponders simply accepting the sexual dysfunction – drilling her mind to focus on her lover while knowing she’ll remain unfulfilled – but it’s exhausting and frustrating, and Herc is far from fooled. His questions are gentle, underpinned with concern, but she’s brusque in reassuring him, curt in dismissal.

She tries for almost five months to come to terms with their new physical intimacy. Herc is attentive and considerate – he books romantic weekends, ridiculous hotels, and there are times when she gets agonisingly close, though the flickering sparks never quite manage to ignite. They’re both left dispirited and discouraged, but she’s careful to maintain her indifference even as she fights the urge to weep.

In the end it’s a stupid thing that tips the balance. She’s working late in the portacabin, eyes gritty from staring at her computer screen, and she stumbles as she stands, fatigue and low blood sugar getting the better of her. She hadn’t heard him come in but Douglas’ reaction is swift, arms wrapping around her and holding her to his chest. She’s suddenly aware of his warmth, his breadth and arousal crackles along her nerves as her senses fill with him. She’s gruff as she dismisses his worry, hurrying him from her office before he can notice her reaction – and she slumps into a chair, unable to control the thundering of her pulse.

That night she can’t exorcise him. The guilt is excruciating as Herc touches her. Despite this, she comes for the first time in weeks – wave after wave of primal ecstasy ripping a cry from her throat and turning her body to liquid. Herc is relieved at what he considers to be progress and she can’t bring herself to shatter the glass, her stomach twisting as he murmurs against her hair. 

She wonders how they can ever move forward. She can only get there this way now, and each time feels part of herself disintegrate. Though the betrayal occurs only in her mind, its effects are startling and uncontrollable in her body, the lines becoming increasingly blurred. She knows she’ll never tell him – what on earth would it achieve? – but it bothers her with every day that passes. And their wedding is less than two weeks away.

She turns over in the darkness, a sigh rattling from her lungs. Things are far from resolved, and perhaps they never will be. At her side Herc snores in settled contentment and her heart constricts into a painful knot.

She closes her eyes and drifts - and holds the devastating storm at arm’s length as long as she can.

FIN


End file.
